The Beginning (Starting Over)

by Matthew J. Metzger

  “Only one way to find out,” he said. “Least you know Gabriel isn’t going to mind if you try it out and you’re not bothered.”

  “Yeah.”

  Aled watched the cogs turn. He was well aware how carefully Chris overthought everything—he’d only recently come to terms with being asexual—and it didn’t surprise him that Chris wanted to pick and niggle at this latest development.

  But at the same time, Aled couldn’t really relate. He’d figured out he was bisexual and come to terms with it in about five minutes flat. All of Chris’ anxiety was centred on such ordinary, normal, vanilla stuff. Aled felt sorry for him. Something about his background had to be telling him to carry this odd shame, right?

  “You worried?” he asked quietly.

  Chris flashed him a brief smile.

  “Not as much as I would have been this time last year,” he admitted.

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m getting there.”

  Aled grinned as a thought—and a memory—occurred to him.

  “Kind of proves Gabriel’s crazy about you, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s not exactly friendly about people who want to use him to experiment. I remember when we were first seeing each other, some hookup left him money and he blew his lid. Used the cash to get a taxi to mine—all the way from Leeds—for a proper fuck from a real man, as he put it.”

  Chris snorted with laughter. “Oh, God, yeah. He told me about that once.”

  “You’re a definite exception,” Aled said. “No way he’d have been up for any experimenting if you were somebody else. Anybody else.”

  Chris pinked, ducking his head.

  “You know he was only willing to move on the condition you were coming too?” Aled murmured, sensing a soft spot.

  “He, er. Yeah. He dropped a hint but I figured he was just trying to twist my arm.”

  “Nope. Said loud and clear he wasn’t moving down south to still have to get on a train to see you,” Aled said. “Guess we all know where you stand.”

  Chris raised his glass. Aled touched his own to it.

  “To monogamous guys in polygamous relationships,” Chris said.

  “Polyamorous.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Aled chuckled. “I’ve learned my lesson, that’s the difference. I got divorced once. And I’m not daft enough to get married again.”

  “You gave him that charm around his neck,” Chris said. “You as good as married him.”

  “He knows what I feel for him. That’s enough. The rest of it—” Aled waved a hand. “It’s an excuse to get lazy.”

  “You still think you would?”

  “I would,” Aled said. “And I’m not risking it. All of this—if he’d said no, if he’d said he wanted to stay in Yorkshire, then I’d have stayed.”

  “You’d have chosen him over your family?”

  “Ultimately, yes.”

  Even saying it out loud caused a twinge in his chest. It was a horrible choice. One he’d never wanted to make and, thank God, hadn’t needed to.

  But ultimately, it was true. He’d tried to deny it, but it was still true. And it was the same one he’d encouraged Suze to make when she’d agonised about marrying Tom and moving away. Family could endure the distance. They would be family no matter what. There was no real risk there. But love couldn’t always tolerate the same, and opening up that gap between himself and Gabriel would never have been worth the risk.

  “I’d choose him over anyone,” Aled said.

  Chris just nodded, and they raised a toast to Gabriel.

  The cornerstone of both their lives, and the biggest thing they had in common.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gabriel had lied.

  Sort of. He had been scheduled to work the weekend that Aled and Chris picked for house-shopping, but he’d wriggled out of it and swapped for the next one instead once he discovered Aled would be out of the house for the whole weekend.

  And the reason why was already there when he coasted the bike into their street on Friday afternoon.

  Kevin’s Kit ens and Bat rooms took up Aled’s usual parking spot, and while the van was locked up tight, the front door of their house gaped open and tools littered the hall. Dust coated the front garden and a saw whirred deep inside the house.

  One of Kevin’s rules, after all, was that he always had a key to Gabriel’s home.

  Once, it had been about making sure he was safe and not drinking himself into oblivion. There’d been evenings—long ago, now—where Kevin letting himself in had been the only thing standing between Gabriel and the bottle, or Gabriel and much worse than a drink. There were nights Kevin had sat up with him until dawn, just being there, just to stop the demons in Gabriel’s head.

  But for nearly six years now, Kevin had only let himself in when Gabriel had fucked up and failed to get in touch, or when he’d been invited over in the first place.

  And yes, Gabriel had invited him to help put down the new laminate in the kitchen. But with Aled out of town, he was hoping to borrow Kevin for just a little bit more, too.

  “Hey!” he chirped, rapping his knuckles on the kitchen doorframe and sticking his head into the room to grin at the enormous tradesman on his hands and knees in the corner. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “Already got one,” Kevin grunted around the pencil clenched between his teeth. “Fuck off and let me work.”

  “Need anything else?”

  “You to fuck off.”

  “Okay, okay…”

  Gabriel did a little tidying of the scattered tools, and rinsed off the plants in the front garden with the hose, but then beat a retreat and went for a shower and to don some scruffy clothes. If Kevin was going to be an antisocial grump until he was finished laying the new floor, Gabriel might as well get some of the other chores done.

  By the time the sawing and hammering stopped, the bathroom was spotless, the bedsheets were changed in both the master and the spare, and he’d managed to just about—with a lot of swearing—hang the spare room door again. Once Kevin started whistling, Gabriel headed downstairs and made another brew, admiring the new floor while Kevin fiddled around with the skirting boards.

  “It looks much nicer,” he said. “When did you even get here?”

  “About half two. Judith’s taken the kids to her mum’s for the day, so I ferried them all over there and then headed down.”

  “Well, thanks for coming,” Gabriel said, then made a pass at him. “How much do I owe you?”

  To his surprise, Kevin sat back on his heels and chuckled, shaking his head.

  “I don’t think so, angel. Last time I saw you, you were crying in my lap.”

  Gabriel blew upwards into his hair.

  “That wasn’t the last time,” he objected. “The last time was when you dropped me back off at home, after dinner with you and Judith and the kids, after I cried in your lap.”

  “Same difference. How have you been?”

  “Fine,” Gabriel said, and softened. “Honestly. I’ve been fine. It must have just been the relaxant.”

  They didn’t drug play often. In fact, Kevin was the only person he’d do any drug play with whatsoever, and the drug in question was nothing more than a muscle relaxant. It wasn’t designed to interfere with his thoughts or his decision-making. Just make him less physically able to put up a fight.

  “I double checked it. Nothing’s changed.”

  “I’ve never spaced on it before, though,” Gabriel said. “I think that’s what happened. I was fine—more than fine—before I spaced. And then it went wrong.”

  “I’m nixing it then,” Kevin said. “If you can’t space on it without a panic attack, it’s not for use anymore.”

  “Okay,” Gabriel said. “You’ll just have to keep me pliant the traditional way.”

  Kevin smirked, but didn’t take the bait.

  “I’m really all right,” Gabriel coaxed.

  “Yo
u had sex since?”

  “Yes.”

  “With Aled?”

  “Yes. Wednesday night.” Gabriel raised his hands and did air quotes. “He ‘caught me cheating’ and locked me in our bedroom to remind me who I belong to.”

  Kevin chuckled, and the hands-off vibe thawed a little. “Did it work?”

  “Define ‘work’.”

  “Are you still cheating?”

  Gabriel licked his lips. “I mean…he’s away all weekend.”

  “Is he now…”

  “Yeah. It gets a little lonely when he’s gone. That’s not my fault.”

  Kevin snorted, packing his tools back into his kit. “Well, there’s your floor anyway. I’d get a hoover on it to get the dust off, soon as you can, then a mop.”

  “I can do that while you clear up,” Gabriel said brightly.

  “Sure. You paying with cash or card?”

  Gabriel bit back the smirk. Kevin had offered to do it for free. Clearly their little sex chat had laid a few worries to rest.

  But he said nothing, just, “Card.”

  “I’ll get the machine.”

  Kevin loped out to the van, and Gabriel fetched the vacuum cleaner and started running the tap for a bucket and mop. The floor was a nice pale wood effect, almost white, and it brightened up the little kitchen enormously. Once he’d run the vacuum over it to snaffle up the shavings and dust, it looked a million dollars.

  “Go cheap clearance sales and tradesmen for friends,” he muttered to himself.

  The van doors slammed just as he’d finished mopping, and Kevin shut the front door behind him too. Gabriel smirked to himself. He was definitely about to get some. He was already starting to ache—and with Kevin’s dick, he’d been downright sore by the end of the day.

  “Looks nice,” Kevin said, appearing in the open doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

  “It does! You’ve done a great job. Thank you.” He put the mop back in the bucket, then feigned surprise. “You didn’t get your card machine.”

  “I figured we could do without the bank taking their cut.”

  “I haven’t got any cash,” Gabriel apologised.

  “Was thinking we could come to a different sort of agreement,” Kevin drawled.

  He reached out. Thick fingers caught in Gabriel’s hair. The kiss was brutal—a hard smash against his mouth—and when he gasped, a hot tongue stole his air. Kevin’s other hand went straight for Gabriel’s jeans, squeezing his arse through the denim before beginning to pull them down. Gabriel lashed out, only for Kevin to catch both his wrists and laugh at him.

  “Might as well give your boyfriend something to really beat you for, right? Here. I’ll leave him a clue.”

  Teeth sank into his neck. Gabriel gasped, groaning, as heat flooded his body. He was hard in an instant. All the fight drained out of him with the rush of arousal, and he sagged in Kevin’s grip like he’d been paralysed.

  Then the bite eased into a gentle suck, and he recovered a few of his wits.

  “L-let go of me!”

  The laugh in his ear was low and filthy, then Kevin’s hands closed around his throat. Gabriel stiffened. Even with Kevin, breathplay was minimal. He clawed at Kevin’s wrists as the burn spread through his lungs, as the spots started to dance, as the kitchen tipped—

  Wet floor.

  Gabriel was dropped like a sack of rocks, and he gasped for air on the wet floor, drunk on the air and dizzy with relief. His limbs shook as Kevin turned him over and ripped his jeans down to his knees. By the time Gabriel registered the hand soap, it was far too late to do anything about it.

  “No!”

  Kevin’s hands sealed over his mouth, Kevin’s body weighed his own down like a ton of bricks, and a hard, slick dick began to push.

  Gabriel screamed.

  Screamed.

  He opened his lungs and howled. Pain crackled up his spine. For a brief moment, his idiotic body fought it—then his submissive streak took over and he collapsed under Kevin’s frame as, inch by inch, that truncheon of a cock forced its way into his arse.

  It. Fucking. Hurt.

  His entire being zeroed in on the pain. He didn’t fight it. Didn’t struggle. He simply lay there and accepted it, sobbing as it reached its peak and shuddering in a mixture of relief and horror when Kevin slid a hand under his hips and began to lazily jack him off.

  “Just relax,” Kevin said. “It’ll be over soon.”

  Gabriel blinked at the shimmering floor, dancing on the edge of subspace as Kevin began to thrust in long, idle strokes. The movement rippled up his body as though Gabriel were a calm sea disturbed by a tide. He could feel every inch, every vein, every contour. Kevin’s breath was hot on the back of his neck. Huge hands held his arms down to the floor and, every now and then, Kevin would jerk Gabriel’s consciousness back to his body by biting him, leaving deep bruises for Aled to find when he came home on Monday night.

  When Gabriel came, it was with a wrenching sensation as if being torn free from his body.

  “There you go,” Kevin murmured, licking the shell of his ear as he fucked the cum right back out of Gabriel’s battered body. “See? It only hurts if silly sluts like you put up a fight.”

  “N-no…”

  “No, what? No, it’s not hurting? Or no, you’re not a slut?”

  “Not—not a slut.”

  “Oh, but you are.”

  Gabriel sobbed when Kevin sat back on his heels and pulled Gabriel to his knees. The thrusts turned to sharp, short bursts of frenetic activity—hard and painful and so, so good—and, of course, the position made him gape wide open. When Kevin finally came, it flooded back out in a rush when he pulled his softening cock out, and Gabriel cringed at the feeling of blood and cum leaking down his thighs.

  He cringed even harder when Kevin took a photo.

  “Like the floor?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Held up nice, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Kevin smacked his arse. “Figured I’d give your boyfriend something to really beat you for. Say thank you.”

  Gabriel shook his head and received another sharp smack.

  “Say thank you, you ungrateful little bitch.”

  “F-for what? You r—”

  “You begged me to fuck you and keep you company while your boyfriend’s out of town,” Kevin snarled. “Say it!”

  “No!”

  Gabriel was dragged backwards by the hair until he scrambled to his knees. Kevin loomed over him, and the slap in the face was harsher than either of the blows to his backside.

  “Say it.”

  “Please go,” Gabriel sobbed. “Please go, please, please—”

  He hoped Kevin would refuse.

  And the sick grin that spread over Kevin’s face made his heart jump.

  “Go?” he said. “You owe me a lot more than just a quick fuck on the kitchen floor. That wasn’t payment. That was testing the product.”

  “I’ve paid plenty!” Gabriel spat. “You need to go. Just go.”

  Kevin laughed. It was a cold, cruel laugh that did things, and it pinned Gabriel in place more effectively than any weight. He was powerless to stop it when Kevin’s hands clamped down around his wrists and he was dragged out of the kitchen to the bottom of the stairs.

  “Saturday rates,” Kevin drawled, dropping Gabriel by the stairs and holding him down by a heavy boot in the middle of his back. The sound of metal clinking in his toolbox was delicious and terrifying at the same time.

  “Please go,” Gabriel begged. “I won’t tell anyone. Please, please, just go.”

  “You’re not going to be squealing,” Kevin said. “The way you were coming on to me? The way your boyfriend beats you for being a whore? Nah. You won’t be saying a thing.”

  The rope bit into Gabriel’s wrists like tiny teeth, and his wrists were tied to the banister with deft, skilled hands. He knew from years of experience that Kevin’s knots would never give way in a million years, but
he yanked anyway, stilling only when Kevin cupped his chin between finger and thumb and looked him dead in the eye.

  “I’m going to make use of your shower,” he murmured. “And then maybe your washing machine. Clean off these scruffy overalls. And while they’re drying on your nice warm radiators, I think you can offer me a good Saturday rate as well. How does that sound?”

  Gabriel spat in his face.

  The blow was deafening. The room spun. Blood burst into his mouth and bubbled over his lips—and then Kevin pinched his chin again, and held his gaze once more.

  “Do that again,” he whispered, “and your boyfriend will come home to scrub your blood out of that nice new floor. Got it?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “Good.”

  Kevin patted his cheek, straightened up and stomped away upstairs.

  Leaving Gabriel with a bloody lip, aching wrists, and a hard-on that refused to be ignored.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was just after midday when Aled pulled up outside Chris’ house.

  “So…what now?” Chris asked.

  “Er. You get out?”

  Chris snorted. “I mean about the house.”

  “Get yours up for sale,” Aled said. “Don’t accept any offer less than the two-twenty she quoted you as a mid-range.”

  “What about the deposit?”

  “I can handle that.”

  The idea of Aled having so much just lying around in savings was scary enough to let Chris pop open the door.

  “Just stay in touch,” Aled said. “It’s not as stressful as folks make out.”

  “Sure,” Chris said sceptically.

  He watched Aled pull away, then turned to let himself in through the gate. Curtains were twitching at the neighbours’ windows. No doubt more whispering about Karen’s odd’un gallivanting off with strange men in flash cars. At least they were probably assuming he was involved in drug dealing rather than having boyfriends. He shrugged it off as he let himself into the bungalow, stooping to stroke Noodle as the cat swished past and escaped.

  “Hello to you too,” he muttered.

  He topped up the food bowls, changed the litter tray and threw his clothes in the wash before showering and finding fresh ones. His hair was starting to go fluffy, so he shaved it along with his jaw before flopping down on his bed and firing off a text.